King of the Webs
by TheElvenKingUnderTheMountain
Summary: King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm received word about a spiders nest nestled deep into heart of the Mirkwood forest. But this is no ordinary nest. These spiders are more intelligent, more strong, more deadly. And with dakr magic spewing from Dol Guldur to the South, Thranduil has no one left to trust, and nowhere left to go. Thus begins King of Webs


King of the Webs

Chapter One

Second Age, 3299

I feel dark magic coming from the south. I can't pinpoint it exactly, but it appears to be coming from Mordor. But, I digress. Legolas is spending a lot of time with the guard girl, Tauriel. I have to make sure they don't become too close. A lowly bar guard is not fitting for the prince of the Woodland Realm. I care for him, but we grow distant. The time I spare is not enough to strengthen the bond between us, and I find myself mourning for the time I spent missing from his mother.. My son thinks I care not for him, that I have no love in me, but what he does not know is that I have loved more than any in the world, but since she passed, I stay away from it as much I can. I want to tell him this, to make us one family again, but when I try to find the words, I cannot.

In other news, I have doubled the amount watching on the southern wall. I have an increasing number of reports of trolls from the dark fortress to the south passing by there. The last thing I need is an excuse for the Master of Esgaroth to cut off his trade with me. He trusts me little enough as is, a troll attack will only be the last straw in his plan. Why there are trolls this far south I fear I may never know, but I plan on finding out, if I didn't have a forest to rule. Middle-Earth is slowly crumbling, and all I can do is sit on my throne and watch.

At that moment, the doors to Thranduil's personal study burst open, and through it came a Mirkwood guard, dressed complete in green armour, save a bronze breastplate covering the most of his torso. A large helmet covered the majority of his face, and it moves as he spoke,

"My lord, there are reports of a spider nest a few miles to the north."

Thranduil sighed, reluctantly placing the leatherbound cover over his journal. The Elven King had not slept well in weeks, and it clearly showed. Even his once-lustrous blonde hair feebly clung by his shoulders, clumped in some places. Purple bags rested under his eyes, which were no longer full of life. If there was one thing he could say, it was that ruling Mirkwood was awfully tough.

"Another?" Thranduil inquired, barely paying attention, "The nasty things are everywhere these days. Order a patrol of five to clear it out." And with that, the Elven King turned back to his wooden desk, several rolls of parchment upon it.

"My king," the guard spoke in an uneasy tone. He knew full well the wrath King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm had, and had no intention of invoking it. "that is not all. We _did_ send a patrol of guards this morning when we discovered the nest. It is was far bigger than any we'd come across before. It was barren when ewe searched it, but it was an ambush."

"An ambush?" Thranduil scoffed, stepping elegantly from his chair, "From the spiders? Are you sure you have not been consuming forest mushrooms?"

"No sir," the guard answered back seriously, "the spiders attacked a few hours after we reached it's centre. I'm afraid to report sit that I believe the spiders have been growing more intelligent. They were far bigger than the previous ones too. They quickly wrapped up the other and ate them. I barely survived, my king."

Thranduil looked to the ground, solemn, "Yes, I can see that. Send out another patrol.", the Elven King walked over to his grand wooden closet, and inside was a stand, beautiful armour, black as night, on it.

"Are you joining us, my king?" the guard asked.

Thranduil only nodded, quickly placing the breastplate on.

Roughly half an hour later, King Thranduil, Ruler of Mirkwood and Woodland Realm walked gracefully over the wooden bridges that connected the main city to the entrance. It appeared that no matter how grave the situation was, Elves had some sort of elegance with everything they did. A sword hung by the Elf's hip, a stunning silver blade, which curved and thinned out towards the tip. Even the handle was a light shade of platinum, with decorative leaves and branches making their way up the side. It gleamed a serene silver, and rested in a small golden ring. Several guards stood by the open door to the palace, waiting for their call to action.

"It's time!" he barked to the legion, who at once walked at a long march out of the underground city.

The sun hit Thranduil, a heavy beam of light on his face. It made his hair shine with a blonde glow, and it bounced off his armour magnificently. This was the King, people thought as they looked to him, for centuries to come. The small stone bridge arched over a large river, onto the forest ground on the other side. Long, twisted, brown trees sprouted from the ground, it's auburn leaves covering the forest floor like a blanket. Butterflies of all colours flew in the air, and threw all the tranquillity, a platoon of Elven soldiers walked, intent on once more clearing the evil spewing from this land. And it wasn't long along the stone path the lay before the Elves until the first few white webs began appearing on the trees. The deeper they probed into the everlasting trees, the more webs they saw, and the thicker they were. The remains of their brothers lay on the floor, still half-covered in web. Thranduil looked down in disgust, fuelled by rage and sadness. But there were no creatures he could inflict his fury upon. The spiders were once again nowhere to be seen,

"Keep your guard up! They may try for an ambush." Thranduil ordered, and at once his men drew their swords, an echo of war.

It had been an hour and there was still no sign of the spiders. If it had not been for the remnants oh his fallen comrades, he would be tempted to believe the guards who brought this news to him was mad. It had not been unknown for even the Elves of Mirkwood to succumb to the plague that befell this forest and it's intruders. But this was more than enough evidence to prove otherwise. Thranduil was more than ready to call of the search when the sound of twigs crunching came from behind. Thranduil turned sharply, just in time to see the spider's fangs centimetres from his face.


End file.
